


you and me (we were never meant to be)

by finkzydrate



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M, Sexual Content, some mentions of AK and Fabian too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkzydrate/pseuds/finkzydrate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After thinking for a year that Mario was the one, Marco realizes that he was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and me (we were never meant to be)

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to tell me how much you hate me after reading.
> 
> as usual, if there are any mistakes, i'm sorry, i probably missed some out while editing it.

_"This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper."_ T. S. Eliot, The Hollow Men

 

Marco lands in Dubai with a suitcase full of summer clothes and a heart full of regrets. He's wearing dark sunglasses as to protect himself at least a bit from any prying eyes or cameras, but he's sure it's pointless. He's clutching on the handle of his suitcase and walking quickly, trying to make his way out of the airport, when his iPhone vibrates in the pocket of his jeans. He flinches, thinks, _it's probably Mario_ , but checks anyways and breathes a sigh of relief once he sees Mats' name flashing on his screen.

"Hey, just wanted to check in on you. Was your flight okay?" Marco can hear some rustling from the other end of the phone and Cathy's muffled voice and then Mats' hushing her and the blond smiles because of the familiarity of it all. It's calming.

"Yes, my flight was good, a bit boring. I'm in Dubai now, just making my way out of the airport," he lies. The flight was horrible, he was stressed from the second his family went to see him off and his sister was taking Nico from his arms and then they said their goodbyes far too quickly and all of a sudden he was in the plane, all alone with just his betraying thoughts. He thinks back to the message he got from Mario just before the plane was about to take off and feels sick again.

"Good. Are you ready for this?" Mats asks him, trying his best to show his support, even though he is miles and hours away from Marco now.

"Yes," Marco's hand shakes for a moment, because he is lying, he's lying again. He'll never be ready for this, not ever and he's scared shitless and he has no idea what to do with himself, but the best he can do is play it calm and reassure at least his friend that his little trip to Dubai isn't going to be in vain. "I'll be staying for just a couple of days. Quick and painless, remember? That's what I want. And I'll see you when I'm back in Dortmund, Mats."

"Okay, buddy. Good luck and try to have some fun at least. For me, because I'm stuck here in the cold," Mats jokes to lift up the mood and Marco lets himself smile for the first time since he was holding his little nephew in his arms and cooing at him.

"Thank you, Mats, I appreciate it. Send my regards to Cathy, by the way," he says and shortly after they both hang up.

***

Mario is sitting on the big couch in the suite he and Fabian are sharing in Dubai and is nervously chewing on the skin on his thumb and holding his phone in his other hand. He's messaged Marco hours ago but there is still not answer.

"Leave your phone alone and stop being such a nervous wreck for at least a second, how about that," Fabian says, while pushing his brother's feet away gently and sitting on the couch next to him. Mario changes his position and looks at Fabian closely.

"How? He hasn't been answering any of my calls or texts! All I know is that he is traveling somewhere and from Instagram, not from _him_ personally, I'm almost offended," the younger one argues, his mood dampened by the blond's silence.

"God, chill out, would you? What does it matter if Marco comes here or not? This trip was your idea in the first place, just try and have some fun with your new teammates or something. Go bond with them," his brother chides him, his face turning into a grimace of disapproval. "Just...leave Marco alone, okay?"

Mario is speechless for a moment by Fabian's completely unexpected outburst. _If only he knew that the reason I'm here is because that's where it all began_ , the brunet thinks to himself and shakes his head. "You just don't get it, Fabian, drop it."

The older one sighs and stands up. "If this makes you feel any better, he was never good at saying no to you. Maybe he hasn't gotten any smarter yet."

He leaves without saying more and Mario, surprisingly, doesn't feel guilty for even a second about what his brother just said. He feels warmth washing over him, because yes, Fabian is right. He matters to Marco, he wouldn't just blow off a chance to spend some time together.

The brunet checks his messages again, but doesn't have any new ones. 

_u should've told me u were bringing nico with u to dubai ;) call me when u land?_

Mario re-reads his last text time after time while waiting for any news from the blond.

***

Marco ignores his phone until he's closed the door of his hotel suite. Then he takes it out of his pocket, drops his suitcase in the main direction of his bed and dials Mario's number, heart beating erratically in his chest. Mario picks up after the second ring.

"Hey, are you here yet?" The blond hears Mario's voice for the first time in too long and he finds himself dumbfounded.

"Yeah," he pauses and coughs a little because his voice is rough and husky all of a sudden and he needs to take a grip. "I'm in my room now, but I need to see you." _It's now or never_ , Marco thinks.

"Yes, of course, just tell me which room you're staying in and I'll come over."

Marco breathes out the number of the room and after Mario reassures him it would only take him a couple of minutes and he'll be there, they hang up. Marco sits on the bed and waits.

***

_2 weeks earlier_

Marco is sitting in the changing room after a particularly tiring training. His teammates are changing and showering, music is being blasted from somebody's speakers, but Marco is not paying attention. He's been trying to reach Mario for a week now without any success. At some point Marco started messaging him random things at all times in the day, just to see if the brunet would react in any way. Marco would send him pictures of his breakfast in the morning, and then telling him he missed in him in the afternoon and wishing him good night before he went to bed. Still, nothing.

"Aren't you gonna shower or do you intend to sit on that bench looking gloomy forever?" Mats asks him, sitting next to him in his towel and starts putting on his socks. _Mats and his cold feet_ , Marco thinks to himself an smiles a little. 

"No, I was just checking something, I'll shower in a bit."

"Mario?" Marco hums in confirmation and the other German nods. "Still nothing?"

"Nope, and I'm done trying," Marco says, throws his phone recklessly in his locker and goes to take a shower. On the way he bumps into Pierre, who's just getting out of the showers and he apologizes quickly.

"It's okay," the Gabonese says, a warm smile on his face and goes his way. Marco makes a mental note to hang out more with Pierre.

***

It really takes only a couple of minute for Mario to find Marco's room and the blond is standing up and going over to the door to open it, unsure as to what is about to happen when they see each other on the two different ends of it. 

Mario looks different, but then exactly the same in Marco's eyes. His hair is the same, his smile is the same, even the look he gets in his warm brown eyes is the same as before. He has a bit more stubble in comparison to his times in Dortmund, but that's the only tangible difference that Marco can spot at a first glance. 

"Hi," he breaks the silence, smiling hopefully at the blond. "Can I come in?"

Marco nods and the brunet uses the chance to walk past him, his shoulder brushing Marco's chest on the way inside the room and it's such a short-lived moment, but the blond feels it almost bone-deep. Mario looks around the room once the door is closed behind them and Marco is leaning on it, just looking at the shorter's back while he's going around, his hands curiously going over some surfaces. Eventually, Mario spots Marco's forgotten suitcase.

"You haven't unpacked. Were you so desperate to see me?" The brunet turns around to smile at Marco and his eyes crinkle in the corners and a month ago Marco's heart would've swelled with love, but now, now it looks fake to him.

 _No_ , he wants to say. _No, I didn't want to even see you, I stopped missing you a while ago, I'm here to break your heart like you broke mine._ Instead, he goes for a shrug, looking nonchalant and Mario takes it for a yes. He walks over to him quickly, still smiling like he was indeed happy to see Marco and this wasn't just one of his games and then, when he's just an inch away from the blond, he puts his arms around his shoulders and pulls him to his smaller body. "I missed you so much, Marco," he breathes out and the blond swallows hard, his eyes focused on Mario's face which is moving closer and closer to his own. He tells himself to be strong, to push him away, but before he can make up his mind and fight the temptation, Mario's lips are on his and it's too late. He stops thinking and puts his palms on the brunet's waist hesitantly, pulling him slowly closer to his own body and it feels good. It really does and it feels like it's 2012 again and for a moment he thinks he's rediscovering Mario and the love he still has in his heart for him. 

Before he knows it, Mario is on top of him, Marco has no idea when the brunet managed to get them to bed and push him on his back, but it's happening too quickly and he has no control over his senses and he's given up to the pleasure completely. He's aware he's scratching Mario's bare shoulders with his blunt nails and biting on his jaw, his legs wrapped tightly around the brunet's middle and he can't let got.

***

_1 week earlier_

Pierre pushes Marco on his bed with his lean body and sure hands. They kiss and pull at each other's clothes in a clear rush to get naked as quickly as possible. 

Marco isn't sure when exactly he realized he liked Pierre. Maybe it was that time after training when his teammate asked him out for drinks and smiled that smile - the warm and inviting one that showed off how hopeful he was that Marco would agree. The blond was overwhelmed by this new and not as familiar man, who craved his attention and had no back thoughts. That day, Marco realized that looks could be deceiving and even if Pierre looked so confident and put together and uncaring of people's opinions, he actually very much did care. He was nervous and unsure of himself and Marco saw right through it that night and he liked it. Later, he realized that Pierre is truly a good guy. He's handsome and has a good sense of humor and his German is funny and Marco knew he was willing to help him, to teach him and be there for him when it's needed. 

Marco's mind is blank and he's focused on Pierre's mouth on his pulse point, leaving kisses and little bites. Marco moves his head to the left, revealing more pale skin for the Gabonese to mark and do with as he pleases. His hands are going over his teammate's back and his skin is so smooth, so gentle to the touch, just like Mario-

His eyes jolt open and he's greeted by a photo of Pierre and his 2-year-old son in a frame, resting on his nightstand. Marco's eyes widen and he realizes he forgot that Pierre was a father.

"Wait, wait, Pierre, stop," he says quickly and pushes at his teammate to get some breathing air in between them. Pierre sits back, straddling the blond's waist and looks at him curiously. 

"Is everything okay?" He asks and caresses Marco's shoulder gently. 

"No, no, oh my god, I'm such an idiot. You have a son, a girlfriend! How could I do something so stupid, oh my god," the blond is standing up, pushing Pierre quickly to get out of underneath him and gather his clothes from the floor. He feels ashamed, dirty, he feels like he's breaking a family and this is the lowest he could've ever ended up going.

"What? No, Marco, wait! Please, stop, let me explain," the Gabonese reaches out and catches Marco's wrist in his hand and pulls him back to the bed. Marco isn't looking at him, but at the floor and he's nervously running his hand through his already messed up hair. "I _do_ have a son, you're right and if this is a problem for you, I can't make you stay or get involved with me. But my girlfriend and I - we broke up a little before I transferred here, okay? I've been single for quite some time now, we're doing nothing wrong here. And Curtys - he's with her tonight."

Marco finally looks up at Pierre, who's still holding his wrist and giving the blond a reassuring squeeze to it. "If you still want to leave, you're free to."

"No, I don't want to," the blond shakes his head slowly. He swallows. "I'm single too, so we're doing nothing wrong," he repeats Pierre's words and wonders how long he has until the guilt kicks in. 

Pierre stops Maco's train of thought by leaning in slowly, smiling that honest smile again, and closing the distance, kissing him firmly on the lips. 

Nothing stops them this time.

***

Marco wakes up and it's dark outside. Mario's head is resting on his chest and his arm is thrown around Marco's middle, he looks peaceful and Marco feels guilty. He considers pushing him off, waking him up, telling him they're done just like he'd planned before coming. The different scenes play in his head one after the other and he's so engrossed in them that he doesn't notice the brunet has woken up. 

The younger one leaves a couple of butterfly kisses on his chest and then rests his chin where his lips just were. "Marco?"

The blond's eyes snap to Mario's face and he hums in an answer.

"You hungry? We can order some food for the room and then watch a movie or something," he bites his lip and Marco knows the brunet has no intention of watching a movie at all, but he nods.

"Sure, just order something, I'm not picky," before Mario gets up from the bed to go call the room service, he leans down and kisses Marco out of the blue, all gentle and loving. "What was that for?"

"I'm just happy you're here," then Mario is off the bed and going to the phone. 

Marco uses the chance to go take a shower. He stands under the water for 20 minutes, wondering how to find the strength to let go of the person he once so wrongly thought was the love of his life.

***

_2 weeks earlier_

Mario hears his iPhone buzzing on his nightstand.

"Don't pick up," Thiago says and starts thrusting faster inside of Mario. He throws back his head and moans out loudly, his phone already forgotten in his mind. He gets a hold of Thiago's shoulders and pulls him closer so he could crash their lips together in a heated kiss.

His phone buzzes again. Mario turns his head, knows it's a message this time.

"You think it's him?" The Spaniard growls and makes Mario look at him by taking a hold of his chin. Then he moves his hand to the German's thighs and nudges at them until Mario opens his legs even wider so he could fuck him deeper. Mario comes moaning out Thiago's name and then lets out a string of obscenities. Thiago grins and fucks Marco out of Mario's memory.

***

Three days after Marco's arrival in Dubai, Mats calls him again. Marco is sunbathing next to the pool in the hotel right after he posed for a picture or two with fans. Mario is off to the bar to bring them some cold drinks so, he's alone.

"Hey, Mats," Marco greets him, putting on his sunglasses and making himself more comfortable and reminding himself to put some sunscreen after.

"Hi, what's up, how's Dubai?"

"It's good, you won't believe how many people I saw. Even Cristiano Ronaldo is here, man, I just passed him by in the hotel, can you believe it?" Marco knows what's coming so, he tries to lift the mood before Mats' inevitable questions about Mario start raining on him.

"Wow, sounds awesome," in reality, the German doesn't sound impressed at all. Marco guesses Mats' is just humoring him. "How's Mario?"

The blond sighs. "He's okay."

"So, if he's okay, you haven't told him yet, right?" Marco grimaces, but doesn't answer. "Look, I didn't call you to tell you to man up and go break it off in a minute, okay? This is your relationship to break or mend, it's up to you. I was just worried because you said you'd be back in a couple of days and it's been three now so I was just checking how you were."

"Thanks man, I really don't need the pressure right now, so I'm glad you understand," the blond breathes out more freely until Mats clears his throat.

"There's something else I called you for, though. Pierre asked me about you, he told me you never said you were going to Dubai and he wasn't sure if it was okay to call you. And _that_ , I'm judging you for, man," the German sounds serious and Marco's heart drops. He's been thinking of Pierre these past few days, but he didn't want to call him until this mess was done and Mario was nothing but a former lover slash best friend.

"I know and I've been meaning to call him and explain where I am, but I wanted to be done with Mario and I'm still not," Marco wants to bury his head somewhere in the desert and not come out for a year. He's put himself in such a horrible situation. He's not only hurting himself, but he's hurting Pierre who has nothing to do with his drama with Mario. 

"Okay, fair enough, but," Mats pauses, sighs. "I have to ask you and feel free not to answer me because it's probably none of my business, but you and Pierre, you're not dating right? Because it would be unfair if you had something serious going on and you were doing Mario behind his back and _don't_ even try to argue, I know you're not just sitting in your hotel room looking at Mario and holding his hand."

"No, we're not dating. I told him I wasn't ready yet so whatever has happened, it was no strings attached, don't worry, I'm not that big of an asshole and I actually do care for Pierre," Marco sees Mario coming over to him, carrying two glasses. "I have to go, Mario's coming. I will do it, Mats, I promise," he whispers out the last part and before Mats has the chance to answer him, the blond has hung up.

"Who were you talking to?" The younger one asks him while handing him his glass. He notices it's a Mojito. Marco can't help but think about how well Mario knows him.

"Just Mats. He's sending you his regards, by the way, said he wishes he was here," lying comes naturally to the blond now, he doesn't even feel guilty about it anymore.

Mario smiles and says that maybe he should call Mats soon too because he hasn't talked to him in a while, but Marco drones him out. He closes his eyes and remembers the first time he realized that Mario was probably cheating on him.

***

_5 days earlier_

"I think Mario is cheating on me," Marco calls frantically Mats one night after spending some time on his laptop looking at pictures of Mario and that Thiago guy. 

"What?" Mats answers confused. "What are you even talking about, you sound crazy?"

"I've been looking at pictures from Bayern trainings and Mario and that Thiago look very close, man. They even copied our celebration. Our _celebration_ , Mats, you know how important it was to me and he knew it too. He's doing it for a reason," Marco is pacing around his room, his laptop still turned on and left on the blond's living room table. Marco is trying to ignore it like it has the plague, but it's drawing him in, because he wants to _know_. 

"Okay, look, I think it's time you turned off your laptop and went to bed because you have a training tomorrow and you're tired and not making sense right now," Mats does his best not to sound annoyed because his friend is probably paranoid and seeing things that aren't there. That's what distance usually does to people.

"No, Mats, he still hasn't returned any of my calls or texts, it's like he doesn't even remember me anymore and I know him. Something is going on and I have to know," Marco sounds close to breaking down by the time he finishes his sentence and Mats is already standing up from the couch where he's sat as carefully as possible because of his injured foot.

"Listen, I'm coming over, you do your best to calm down while I make my way to you."

"Okay," Marco says and he sounds so small and desperate that Mats is afraid he'd break until he gets to his place.

***

When Mats arrives, Marco lets him in and curls up on the couch in his living room.

"I think it's time we broke up," he says, his tone is even and his eyes are focused on the bright screen of the laptop. 

"Are you sure about this?"

"You remember how he used to play with Ann-Kathrin while we were fucking around behind her back?" Mats nods his head. "I never once stopped to think about what horrible people we were. I was so in love with him, man, I was ready to lie to whoever was needed just so that we could steal a moment or two together. And she would call sometimes while we were together and he never picked up, not once. She texted him, left messages on his voice mail, but he was with me and he never answered her. She was probably wondering if he was alive or if he even gave two fucks. Funny how things change. I'm Ann Kathrin now. He's going behind _my_ back while I'm in living in the past and clinging onto the memory of us being happy together. I'm not just his plaything that he can throw away once he's done with, that's not how a relationship works," Marco shakes his head.

***

3 days earlier

Mario finally answers Marco's messages a couple of days before he goes to Dubai. He's spending all his time at Thiago's place these weeks and they play FIFA together, fuck around or just kick a ball in his garden. The Spaniard is growing on him, Mario can't lie about that. Sometimes he feels bad about ignoring Marco but he pushes the thought away, already having formed the plan of luring him to joining him in Dubai because he is used to always being with someone now and Thiago is going back to Spain to visit his family so he’s not an option. 

***

Six days after, Marco realizes he still hasn't unpacked and he has been spending every second of his vacation with Mario. He knows Fabian is there somewhere too, but strangely, Marco never really saw him. The brunet told him his brother was with his girlfriend Kristina so, he had company and Marco shouldn't worry about it.

They’d fucked literally everywhere in the room by now and Marco keeps on telling himself he has to stop and get out. He feels like he's been sucked right back into the familiarity of Mario's presence. They do everything they used to do back when they were in Dortmund, but now when Marco stops and think about it, the excitement is gone, he's certain whatever he's feeling for Mario now is not love. He doesn't feel giddy and happy and weightless around Mario and it took him six days to realize this. He thinks, _better late than never_. 

His suitcase is ready, he just needs to collect some of the scattered all over the bedroom clothes, tell Mario he's done, and get the fuck out of there. 

Mario is in the shower so, the blond uses the time to pack what's left and change his outfit.

The brunet walks out of the bathroom ten minutes later, a humble white towel wrapped around his waist, not really hiding anything, and water running down his torso. Marco swallows, makes himself look away before he starts getting cold feet and decides that one day would make no difference, because he’s been lying to himself ever since he’d set foot in Dubai. He’s been prolonging the inevitable and making it even harder for himself to let go, he’s been clinging to the past and ignoring the present, ignoring the fact that Mario’s been playing games with him ever since he joined Bayern.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Mario sits next to Marco on the bed and puts his warm palm on the blond’s knee.

“I was just thinking how I came here to break up with you,” Marco blurts it out, gaze focused on the wall. He feels idiotic for saying it so casually and out of the blue, he thought he’d have a speech ready by now and tell Mario they needed to talk, but what’s the point? Quick and painless, that was the initial plan.

“Excuse me?” 

“We can’t be together anymore, Mario,” he finally gets the strength to look at the brunet’s eyes. He can see Mario’s confused, not really sure if Marco is being serious. 

“I know you have been going behind my back, I’m not completely sure with whom, but I don’t care, it doesn't exactly matter, does it? It's okay, I cheated on you too so we're even.”

“What? Marco, what are you talking about? Stop this, it's not funny,” Mario’s frozen to his spot, but the panic in his eyes is obvious and the blond knows he has been right from the beginning. Then Mario reaches out and touches Marco’s face. “But I _love_ you.”

“No, you don’t. You just keep telling yourself this over and over again to make sense of this need to manipulate and use me to make yourself feel good. I wish you could look me in the eyes and be honest this one time like I was just now,” Marco pushes the brunet’s hand away and stands up. Mario looks up at him; he’s still stuck not knowing how to rationalize it because it’s too quick, too sudden. He never saw it coming.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you please stop and listen to me for one second?” Mario begs him, he’s pulling on the blond’s elbow while Marco tries to take a hold of his suitcase and make his way towards the door.

“I don’t want to listen, I used to listen and follow you around like a dog on a leash, Mario! For an entire year! I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Just go back to Munich and stop bothering me, okay?” He shakes off Mario’s hand and starts walking towards the door. He can hear Mario walking quickly after him in his haste to catch up, to explain himself, to make things better somehow, but Marco won’t let him. Not this time. 

“I fucked up, okay? It was a mistake and I know it! Please, Marco, stop,” he yells out to catch the blond’s attention somehow, but it doesn't work.

Marco manages to get to the door and is just putting his hand on the door handle when Mario shouts after him, “If you go out now, we’re through, Marco. Is this really what you want?”

He pauses, hand hesitating for a moment, because he’s been asking himself the same question. Is this really what he wants? Is he throwing away the best year in his life just like that? Then he remembers Pierre and his warm smile, his gentle hands, his crappy German. He remembers Thiago and Mario bumping shoulders on the pictures he saw on the Internet, he remembers Mario grinning widely wearing his Bayern jersey and feels unneeded. He feels unnecessary and irrelevant.

“Yes,” and with that he’s opening the door and getting out, leaving Mario speechlessly gaping at the empty air and the closed door. 

He thinks, _I fucked up big time_. Mario considers calling Thiago or Ann Kathrin for advice, but halfway after dialing Thiago he realizes how stupid of an idea this is. What would he say? ‘Yes, hi, Thiago, I know I've been cheating on my boyfriend for the last month or something with you, but can you please give me some advice? He just broke up with me, how do I get him back?’

Mario groans, paces for a while, just trying to come up with a plan, but he’s coming up empty handed and he gives up, goes to get dressed, then leaves the room and goes back to his own.

***

“I did it,” Marco calls Mats immediately after leaving the hotel. 

“Really? Oh my god, sorry, how are you feeling?” Mats sounds concerned and Marco doesn't know what to say.

“I don’t really know yet. I think the worst part was the pressure of the breakup. I was stressing so much over the details, like where I would tell him and how, that I forgot about the breakup itself, does this make sense?” The blond’s forehead is wrinkling in confusion. Mats hums as an answer. “I told him everything I needed to so, at least I got this off my chest. I think we will just have to wait and see, I have no idea how to feel right now. I expected a lot more…well, screaming and crying and drama, but that’s not what happened.”

“It’s good that’s it done, Marco, you deserve better and you know it. Now what, though?” His teammate asks.

“Now I’m coming home. I have to be honest with Pierre. I need to get back on my feet before I can be with anyone so, it will take time. But this is for the better,” Marco nods even though the other German can’t see him through the phone. “I’m at the airport right now, I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?”

“Of course, you know where to find me,” Mats answers him, smiling and with that, they hang up.


End file.
